


There is a Point to This

by TheseusInTheMaze



Series: Kinkbruary 2021 [24]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Anxiety, Blood, F/F, Kinkbruary (Doctor Who), Needle play, Vaginal Fingering, religious ritual
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:09:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29692059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: "I'm going to create a pattern using the needles," Missy said. "They're made of a particular type of metal that will react to the specific chemicals in your blood and the electricity in your body, as I already mentioned, and then it'll open the portal, and we'll be able to hop through and grab the Doctor. And it'll bring them their rain, which is what they've been missing.""Right," said Clara. "And why can't I do it to you?""As if I'd trust you! What are you so afraid of?""You're a homicidal maniac.""Genocidal, thank you very much. Do I downplay your accomplishments?"
Relationships: Missy/Clara Oswin Oswald
Series: Kinkbruary 2021 [24]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139585
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18





	There is a Point to This

**Author's Note:**

> Kinkbruary day 24! Needle play! This was a new one to me, so please forgive me if it's a bit clumsy. I hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> There is a reference in this fic! If you get the reference, I will write you a fic to your specifications (provided it isn't one of my squicks).

“It’s really quite simple,” Missy said. 

"Is it?" Clara tried to keep her voice level, calm. It always took effort to do that, when Missy was around.

"The Tetigis will only work if the rain is summoned a certain way," said Missy. "And we _could_ do this the old fashioned way -"

"What's the old fashioned way?" Clara watched Missy fiddle with the box that she had been handed. 

"It involves getting a dead animal, mostly," said Missy, "and it isn't always full proof. It's a lot easier to do with living flesh, and much more likely to work." 

"And what, exactly, are we going to be doing?" Clara tried not to fidget. There was a very big table, in the center of the brightly lit room. She had seen a few too many horror movies, and a million different variations of ritual sacrifices (garishly lit, with bare breasts on display, and lots of fake blood and body paint) played across her mind on an endless reel. 

"Well, technically, _I'm_ going to be the one who is doing all the doing," said Missy. " _You_ just need to be receptive."

"Being receptive is doing something," Clara said. "It's got a verb and everything."

Missy rolled her eyes. "Stop being such an English teacher," she said. "This isn't the time to try to flex your lack of superiority over me." She opened up the box, and the little snaps were very loud, and echoed in the empty room.

The people of the planet had ushered them into the room, which was devoid of any furniture but the big table in the middle and a little side table, after Missy had said something about "performing the ritual," and since they looked like some kind of combination between a seagull and a land squid, Clara couldn't really get a read on their faces, so... well. 

"I can't turn that off," Clara said, and then her eyes went wide, as Missy took out a long, thin needle. "What's that for, exactly?"

"The ritual," Missy said serenely. She was taking out a little bottle of... something - when she opened it, the whole room was full of a strong scent that made Clara's eyes water. 

"I'm gonna need a little more information than that," Clara said, and she folded her arms protectively over her chest, hugging herself.

"We need to create a pattern that will match up with a specific other pattern," said Missy, and she sounded annoyed. "We also need specific chemicals involved, which we'll find in your blood -"

"My _blood_?!" Clara interrupted. There was a slightly hysterical note to her voice, but she couldn't seem to stop it. 

"We won't need much," Missy said defensively. "And the electrical signals in your body -"

"You can't just use... static electricity?" Clara's voice was going _squeaky_ now.

"If you interrupt me again I'm going to walk out and let _them_ do the ritual," Missy said sharply, and she indicated over her shoulder with her thumb. "I, at least, know human physiology."

Clara frowned. "So you're going to... what, inject me?"

"I'm going to create a pattern using the needles," Missy said. "They're made of a particular type of metal that will react to the specific chemicals in your blood and the electricity in your body, _as I already mentioned_ ," she added, giving Clara an annoyed look, "and then it'll open the portal, and we'll be able to hop through and grab the Doctor. And it'll bring them their rain, which is what they've been missing."

"Right," said Clara. "And why can't I do it to you?" Her heart was very loud in her ears.

"As if I'd trust you!" Missy looked downright offended. "What are you so afraid of?"

"You're a homicidal maniac," Clara said, because sometimes it was simpler to be blunt. 

" _Genocidal_ , thank you very much," Missy sniffed. "Do I downplay _your_ accomplishments?" 

"Why does it have to be my body, specifically?" Clara rocked on her heels, tried not to stare at the glittering pile in the box. "Versus theirs?"

"They've evolved too much, their blood chemistry is different," Missy said, and she waved a hand. "I promised the Doctor I wouldn't let anything happen to you, didn't I? You'll hurt my feelings if you keep that up."

"The last time you did that, you stuck me in a Dalek and tried to get the Doctor to kill me," Clara said flatly. 

"Oh pshaw," Missy said, waving a dismissive hand. "That's the past." She sighed. "If you're _really_ this against it," she said, "we can go get a dead beast of burden and run a circuit through it, add some bottled chemicals..." She trailed off, made a face.

Clara paused, and she tried to process her own feelings. This would be faster. She didn't trust Missy farther than she'd throw the Time Lady, but... well, she trusted Missy when it came to the Doctor.

More or less. 

"Will it hurt?" Clara really wished that she didn't sound quite so... sheepish.

Missy smiled, and her teeth were very sharp and very bright. "Do you want it to?" Her voice was as sweet as poisoned honey.

Clara swallowed around the lump in her throat, and she did her best to smile back. She was _not_ going to cry in front of Missy. She had that much pride, at least!

Hopefully.

-*-

"So," Missy said, her tone bright, “first we’ll disinfect, since we’re not _animals_.” Her voice was as chipper as a nursery school teacher’s, and it was putting Clara’s teeth on edge. 

So was lying on the table like this, topless and face down. The cold air was making her skin prickle, and the tops of her feet were digging into the cold of it. She was shivering, goosebumps breaking out across her skin, her nipples hard and tender as they rubbed against the hard surface. 

Missy’s hands were not quite as cold, but whatever the substance she was rubbing into Clara’s back was colder. It smelled like a tattoo parlor, with some kind of herbal undertone. Clara tried not to think about this. _Knowing Missy, this will give me hives or make me turn purple or something._

Clara was very carefully not thinking about the fact that she had agreed to let Missy stick her full of needles. Missy, self confessed genocider and the monster lurking under the bed of Clara’s subconscious. 

“Killed away all those nasty little organisms,” Missy said, and her cool fingers were rubbing something into Clara’s back. “The Doctor would never forgive me if I did any kind of serious damage to you.”

Clara rolled her eyes. Of course Missy had a way to be snide about it.

“And some special religious ointment to bring the rains, blah blah blah,” Missy said. “I barely believe it does anything, but might as well make the effort.” More of… something rubbed into Clara’s back, and it was _cold_. 

_Get on with it,_ Clara thought, and then _ow._

Maybe Missy had read her mind. Clara wouldn’t have been surprised. She was being pinched, and that was unpleasant, and then there was a sharp… sting, and then the sensation of the needle coming out the other end. 

_Not so bad_ , Clara thought dazedly, although her head was starting to spin. _At least if I pass out, I’m still lying down._

“There,” Missy said. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Another pinch, another sharp push, and Clara was starting to shake. “Can’t have you going into shock, dear, there we go, nice deep breaths.” 

Clara tried to remember to breathe, as another needle was pushed under her skin, poked out the other end. Her head was _definitely_ spinning, and some kind of panic was beginning to bubble up in the depths of her guts. 

Missy’s fingers pinched again, and then another sharp tug. The needles were making… some kind of pattern, weren’t they? That’s what Missy had said, they needed it for _something_ , and Clara’s stomach was going to heave, but there was a cold hand on the back of her neck, and it was pressing down on...s something. Her whole body was edge - had she ever been so _aware_ of herself? Of her skin, of her nerves, of her… everything?

She was tingling, all over, and she was breaking out in goosebumps, all over. _What if she did this to my breasts?_ There was the sensation of another pinch, and then another needle. It was like being in a trance - pinch and sting, a breath out, a pinch and sting, a breath in. She was trembling so hard that her teeth would have chattered, except she was digging her teeth into her arm. That pain held it off, a little bit, but then there was another pinch, another sharp pain, and it wasn’t hurting as much.

_Am I getting better at taking it? Or is it something else?_ Clara was panting shallowly, and she was definitely getting dizzy, her stomach was beginning to clench up in a way that was half aroused, half queasy. 

More needles, and how many _were_ there? 

“Wow,” said Missy, and she sounded impressed. “I didn’t think you’d take that much without _whining_.”

“I’m not a whiner,” Clara said, through clenched teeth. 

“All humans are whiners,” Missy said, and she sounded distracted. “We’re nearly done, and you’ve taken it so well. How about a little treat? Give it a pause.” 

“Treat?” Clara frowned. She very pointedly did _not_ look over her shoulder at Missy, because if she did she might see the needles in her back, and then she very much would pass out. 

“I daresay you’ve earned it,” said Missy, and one finger was making its way up the inside of Clara’s thigh. “Unless you just want to keep at it?” Her fingers were cold, and they were moving higher. 

How were they cold, still?

“I don’t want you to stop,” Clara said, her tongue thick and dry. “The… well.” She paused. “You don’t have to stop in either direction,” she said finally, which probably made no sense, but she was reeling with adrenaline, with arousal, with… who even knew what. Maybe whatever oil had been rubbed into her skin? Or the… whatever it was.

Missy’s fingers were downright _delicate_ on Clara’s labia, and Clara wasn’t sure why she was agreeing to this - she lifted her hips, and some of the needles in her back seemed to shift. Shifted enough to make her head spin, and she was shaking harder. There was a hand slipping down to cup her vulva, to _squeeze_ it, and she gasped. The heel of Missy’s hand grinding against the entrance of her cunt, Missy’s fingers pressing against her clit.

Clara ground her hips forward, and she dug her knees into the table. She was humping the table like… well, she didn't want to think about what she might look like, but Missy’s other hand was rubbing across the needles under her skin. She was running on so much adrenaline that her whole body seemed to be on fire, and the tingling of her cunt, her clit, her nipples, her scalp, it seemed to be drawing her tighter. 

“You humans,” Missy said, her tone affectionate. “You’re all just chemicals. Animals driven by chemicals.” A needle was jostled, and Clara’s cllit was rubbed in little clockwise motions.

Clara kept her eyes shut, and she sobbed, as more needles were plucked like piano wires, sending vibrations through her whole body. She was running on adrenaline, on arousal, on some kind of terror and an almost zenlike serenity. She came, grinding into Missy’s hand, little drops of blood running down her sides. She cried, and then Missy’s wet fingers were on the back of her neck.

“I’m going to have to go disinfect my hands of course, you humans are always so _messy_ ,” Missy said, and Clara couldn’t tell if the Time Lady was disappointed or amused or… what. Clara let herself lie flat on the table, and she let the pain and the pleasure twine together. This was all going to work. There had only been so many needles in the box. There’d been a lot of them already.

So now, she just had to wait for… whatever the ritual would be. She would just take it, there would be rain for these people, they’d find the Doctor.

She shifted, and the needles under her skin gave a little jostle, which sent another jostle through her. 

_Of course Missy would awaken something in me_ , Clara thought, and then there was another pinch, another sting, and... she let herself sink into the rhythm, and thought about rain.

**Author's Note:**

> Do you have an interest in Kinkbruary? You can find out more about it, including the prompts at https://twitter.com/_zaffrin/status/1352316453232504833
> 
> Also, come find me on twitter, TheseusInTheMaz!


End file.
